


Sam - 17

by phantisma



Series: Ages [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-19
Updated: 2006-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Sam's POV.  When Sam is 17, he's home for the summer from Stanford and he's a changed man...now if only he can get through to his brother...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam - 17

He was seventeen and sleeping on his brother’s couch…if it could be called sleeping. Sam gave up on the notion and got up, pacing the living room for the third or fourth time that night. He’d been home from school for two weeks and he’d slept through the night only once.

Two weeks. It was obvious Dean had never found the note Sam had left, or if he did, had chosen to ignore it. That made things harder. Sam sighed and paced. Things had changed. And man, was that the understatement of the year. He’d expected to come back and talk about the visions and dreams and the meds. He’d expected to come home to a brother ready to have that conversation.

One look at Dean and he’d known the truth. Now, Sam was torn.

His first months at Stanford had been miserable. He was the youngest freshman on campus, he was away from Dean for the first time in his life, and no matter what he’d thought about gaining his freedom, it ached in his bones to know that he wouldn’t roll over in his bed and see his brother’s back…or hear his soft, even breathing.

But, they’d been good for him. Getting away from Dean had given him space to think. He’d been a royal ass. He could see that once he’d gotten some distance. In the name of helping Dean, he’d only really helped himself.

Sam glanced at the clock. Dean would be getting up soon to go for his run and then work. Sam wasn’t going to sleep anyway, so he went to the kitchen to start some coffee, then went to the bathroom to change into sweats. He was lacing up his sneakers when Dean came into the living room, already loosening up. “You coming with?” Dean asked with a smile and Sam nodded.

“Yeah…cause I’m gonna get fat eating what you and Kaitlyn have been feeding me if I don’t.”

“You ready?” Dean stretched his arms as Sam stood.

“Yeah, but let’s start slow, I haven’t done this in a while.”

It wasn’t quite dawn as they started with a slow jog, down the row of apartments and out into the street. Sam could feel the burn as he settled into the pace Dean set. He ran at school, not anything like Dean did, but enough to keep in shape. It went well with the rest of his training.

Sam shook his head. No. That was not where that conversation needed to start. But then, that seemed to be his problem. He couldn’t figure out where it could start.

“You’re quiet.” Dean said as they rounded the corner and headed into the park.

“Yeah. Guess so. Just thinking.”

“Anything you want to share?”

Sam considered it. “A lot…but I’m not sure where to start.”

Dean didn’t answer, just turned them down the left fork of the running trail. “I left you a note, when I went to Stanford.”

Dean looked at him and shook his head. “I didn’t see any note.”

“I left it on the back seat of the Impala.”

Dean frowned. “Never saw it.”

Sam sighed. “Was it important?” Dean asked.

“You could say that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Sam wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I was going to…but it isn’t the kind of stuff you want to talk about over the phone, Dean.”

“What kind of stuff is it, Sam?” Dean grinned and picked their pace up a little bit.

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute as he thought about how to answer that question. “It was…a confession, of sorts.”

“Dude, is this going to go all chick-flick on me?”

Sam smirked. “Heaven forbid.” He was starting to feel the exertion. “Can I ask a question without you getting angry?”

Dean looked at him strangely. “I suppose.”

“What would you do if you suddenly discovered that everything you thought and believed was wrong?”

Dean slowed their pace, concern on his face. “What do you mean?”

“What if…after everything…Dad was actually right?”

Dean stopped. Sam couldn’t read the emotions flickering over his face. “Is this about your dreams?”

Sam gulped air and shook his head, walking to keep his muscles loose. “Not completely no.” This was not going well. He could tell. “I…Dad came to see me at Stanford, Dean.”

“He what?” Now that was anger. Dean turned Sam toward him. “He what?” he repeated.

“I’ve seen a lot of him, actually.” Sam ran a hand through sweaty hair. “I think maybe I’ve been wrong.” He said it as carefully as he could. Nothing like telling your brother he’s all fucked up for no reason.

Dean stared at him for a long time, then shook his head and set back to running. “We can’t talk about this right now. I need…I have to work. Tonight. We’ll go out. You and me alone.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Dean disappeared into the shower as soon as they got back to the apartment and by the time he emerged Sam couldn’t tell anything was ever said. Dean smiled at Sam as he poured himself coffee. “Shower’s free.”

“Coffee first.” Sam said. He had pulled off his sweaty shirt and tossed it aside, sitting at the kitchen table. He noticed the appreciative gaze as Dean’s eyes traveled over his body and looked away. He had promised himself that _that_ was over. Done. Not going to happen again.

“You’ve been working out.” Dean observed finally.

“Yeah. I have.”

“It looks good on you.”

Sam smiled. It was so easy to just let it all be…to just let Dean have this. He drew in a deep breath. “Thanks.” He tossed down the last of his coffee and stood. “I’m gonna shower. I’ll see you tonight.”

 

Sam found himself outside the church early in the afternoon. Everything had changed after his encounter with the priest the year before. Everything. Sam had spent his entire trip to Stanford thinking about it, and about Dean. And when his father had shown up following a dream that was entirely too real, Sam had started to sit up and pay attention.

With a sigh, Sam climbed the stairs and opened the doors to the church. Stepping into the sanctuary, he paused, closing his eyes and letting the feeling of calm soak into him. He’d come to appreciate the special flavor of sacred spaces in the last year, particularly after going on a hunt with his father.

“Sam?”

He smiled and opened his eyes. “Father Andrews. Just the priest I was hoping to find.”

The aging priest held out his hand and Sam took it. “I was wondering if you had some time to talk?”

“Sure, come on to my office. Dean told me you were coming back.”

“You’ve seen Dean?”

The priest smiled and held the door to his office open. “I told you I’d keep an eye on him, didn’t I? He comes by with Kaitlyn from time to time. He’s a good guy.”

Sam nodded and sank into the chair. “He is. And he’s so happy right now…despite…Janet’s death.”

“I heard. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sam shrugged. Funny he hadn’t really grieved her as a loss. The only mother he’d ever known. “Thanks…She was…” He was unsure actually. She had done good by him, but she had contributed to the fucked up mess that was Dean too. His brother had no idea that Sam knew just how much. “No one deserves to go that way.”

The priest nodded. “No.” He sized Sam up before sitting behind his desk. “So, Sam…when we last spoke, you were blaming yourself for your brother’s situation.”

Sam smiled. “Nice segue, Father.” He picked at a frayed thread on the chair’s arm. “When I left, I left him a letter…five pages worth of confession.”

“I’m told it’s good for the soul.” Father Andrews said with a smirk and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well…I poured my heart out.”

“How did he react?”

“He never saw it.” Sam shifted in his seat. “I have to admit that our meeting last year started some serious changes for me. That letter…it gave me the chance to see myself and make some changes. Coming home to him never reading it…I’m not sure what…” He sighed in frustration.

Father Andrews smiled. “You expected things to have changed and they haven’t.”

Sam looked up at him. “No, they’ve changed, just not in the way I had anticipated. Dean is…I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. He’s thinking about proposing to Kaitlyn.”

Sam stood and paced around the chair. “I wanted to talk to him about everything I’ve seen since I left…and now I don’t think I can.”

“So let’s talk about you, Sam. You keep alluding to changes and such. What has gone on out there at Stanford?”

“My father showed up. I had a serious dream about a girl getting killed. The next afternoon I went to find her. I found her, and Dad.” Sam inhaled. “It was…tense. But it proved to me that I wasn’t going crazy.”

“What was it?”

Sam made a face. “An angry spirit, a professor that died on campus a hundred years ago. It still sounds insane to say, but I saw it with my own eyes.”

“So, what happened?”

“I followed my Dad around until we found the grave…and then I helped him dig up the bones to salt and burn.” He looked up, expecting the priest to react, but all he did was nod.

“Standard disposal for an angry spirit.”

Sam smirked and sank back into the chair. “I wondered.”

“About what?”

“One of my father’s hunter friends said you might be a hunter.”

“No…I’m not.” He sat back in his seat and rubbed at his temples. “My father was. My brother is. I’ve always been what I am today. I entered vows very young, Sam. I knew from before I was your age what my role was going to be.”

“Where are they now?” Sam asked.

“My father died shortly after I finished seminary. My brother…last time I saw him was still hunting. I expect to see him sometime this summer. He runs on a sort of cycle. Most hunters do. He’ll be needing some downtime soon.”

“I know the feeling.” Sam stretched out his legs. “I’ve been on five hunts since September. My father’s hung out in California, teaching me, training me. It’s so odd. All my life I’ve had Dean…everything in my life hung on Dean…and here I’ve spent nine months without him, only to replace him with the man I once vowed I’d kill if I ever saw again.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell Dean.”

“I know this isn’t easy, Sam. I know you feel guilty, and you want to share this with him. I know how hard it must be for you. But you have to think about Dean. Will you telling him everything right now be the best thing for him? Or is it merely to relieve your guilt?”

Sam narrowed his eyes and looked at the priest. “Are you suggesting that Dean doesn’t have the right to know? To make his own decisions about staying on the meds?”

Father Andrews frowned. “No, not exactly. I just want you to examine your motivation, Sam. What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I want Dean to be…happy.” He frowned.

“Didn’t you say he is happy?”

Sam nodded and sank deeper into the chair. “He hasn’t had a vision or a dream or anything in almost two years. Whatever the meds are that he’s on now, they’re working. Or its because Dad hasn’t been around…or maybe he’s finally pushed them away, chosen not to have them.”

Father Andrews nodded. “It could be the meds, or his rejection of the gift. But, I don’t know what your father has to do with it.”

“Before I left, I discovered an interesting trend. Dean’s episodes all happened when my father was lurking. I don’t understand it, but my visions and stuff are always stronger when Dad’s around too. I don’t know for sure, but I think somehow Dad being nearby triggers Dean in someway. We’ll know soon enough. He should be here next week.”

They were quiet for a while.

“I’m not telling you not to tell him, Sam. In fact, I’m not sure what decision I would make in your position. One more thing in the against column though…have you ever seen someone come down off of meds like the ones your brother’s on?”

“No. I know it isn’t pleasant though. Dad and I talked about it. He…he wants to force him to it…but I can’t do that to Dean. It has to be his choice….you know….I’ve manipulated and forced him for so long….”

“You two are so similar. If I didn’t know you two were brothers, I’d know you were brothers, if you take my meaning.” He smiled. “You both blame yourselves, and you both love the other so much you can’t tell him how you feel.”

 

By the time Dean got back to the apartment, Sam and Jenny were laughing over coffee in the kitchen, swapping stories of school. Sam looked up at the sound of Dean’s keys hitting the table by the door. “Hey, how was your day?” Sam asked as Dean popped his head into the kitchen.

“Long. Give me a minute to get changed, okay?”

Sam nodded and turned back to Jenny. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

She smiled. “You two need some time together. I’ll be fine. Candace and Marcie are coming by anyway, and Kaitlyn will be home before too long.”

“Okay…call if you need anything at all, okay?”

“So, pizza? Or do you want real food?” Dean asked as he came out of his room, pulling on a jacket.

“Pizza’s good.” Sam said, following him out the door.

“Great, there’s this place over on 14th, makes the best pizza in town.”

Sam followed him to the car, uncomfortable in the silence. After his conversation with the priest he wasn’t sure how to start again…or even if he should.

Dean, however, took the problem out of his hands. “So, Dad?”

Sam sighed and nodded. Okay, directly to it. “Yeah. He showed up last November. Right after I had this really awful dream about a girl I knew.”

Dean didn’t look at him, just stared at the road in front of them. “And?”

Sam shrugged and slumped a little in the seat. Now that it came to it, he wasn’t sure what to say. “And, we hunted a ghost.”

“You….hunted…” Dean sighed and glanced aside. “Sam—“

“No, I know…I know what you’re thinking, Dean.”

“Do you?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah, cause I’ve said the same things to you.”

“But?”

“Maybe I was wrong.”

“Wrong? What were you wrong about Sam?”

“Maybe everything. I don’t know.”

“Obviously you do know something.”

“Okay…maybe I was wrong about Dad. Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things.”

“You hunted a ghost. Maybe you were wrong. Can you see how this is a problem for me, Sam?”

Dean pulled the Impala off onto a residential street and stopped in front of a house. “Get out of the car Sam.”

“Dean, I—“

“Just do it.” Dean opened his door and climbed out to lean on the hood of the car, looking down the street, not at the house. Sam came to stand beside him. “Look at the house and tell me what you see.”

Sam sighed and turned to look at the house. He recognized it, even knew where Dean was going, yet he looked, half hoping he would see something. “Well?”

“I see a house, Dean.”

“I couldn’t drive this street for years Sam. I saw her face in the doorway, in the windows. I saw demons in the people who lived here. They weren’t demons, Sam. They were people. I was delusional.”

Sam chewed on his lip for a minute while he considered his next move. “Okay, Dean…just…listen to me for a minute. Let me say my piece and then I’ll leave it be, okay?”

He came around to stand in front of Dean, his hands in his pockets. “I can’t answer for my actions as a kid, not really. I was afraid, I was a child. I said and did some things I am not proud of. I…for the moment, that isn’t important.”

He exhaled slowly. “I saw that ghost at Stanford. I saw it with my own two eyes. I dreamed a girl was in trouble and when I found her, I saw it. I know it existed.”

He stepped closer, his hand sliding down Dean’s arm to his hand. “Now, I’m not disagreeing with you necessarily.” His smile was tentative and Dean’s eyes flicked to his briefly. “You were delusional, if you were seeing demons in these people.” His thumb stroked over the back of Dean’s hand. “I’m just saying that maybe…maybe there’s more to this demon thing than psychosis. Maybe there’s room for both to be true.”

Dean snorted and pulled his hand away. “That isn’t very comforting, Sam.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.”

“So…you want me to trust that you’re okay, despite the fact that when the nightmares and visions were mine, you called me crazy and pushed me to get help.”

Sam shoved his hand back into his pocket. “I was wrong.”

“That’s it?”

“No. That’s…only a beginning. But, I’m willing to leave it there.” Sam headed back for the passenger side of the car, then paused. “Oh…but there is Dad.”

“What about him?” Dean asked as he pushed off the hood and opened the door.

“He wants to see you. He’ll be in town next week, and he really wants to see you.”

Dean rested his head against the roof of the Impala. “I don’t know Sam. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Not after…everything.”

“He was here, you know…when you graduated. He wanted to see you, but…”

“But what?”

“He didn’t want to interfere. You seemed happy.”

“I am happy.”

Sam smiled. “I know. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think we’d better get to the pizza before you go all girly on me.”

“So…we’re okay?” Sam asked as he closed his door.

Dean nodded. “Better than okay, Sam. We’re brothers.”

 

 

“Popcorn?”

“Ooh, big spender. When Dean brings me, we always eat a healthy dinner first and then he won’t buy me popcorn.”

Sam grinned. “Screw dinner…we’ll live dangerously tonight and eat popcorn and Goobers.”

Jenny laughed and leaned into him. It was good to see her smile again, to hear her laugh. “You know…I’ve really missed you, Jen.” Sam said as he paid for their goodies and they headed to the line together.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” She was quiet for a minute. “I’m just glad I have you guys, you know?”

“Have you thought much about what you’re going to do now?”

She shrugged. “Finish school…figure out what I want to do with my life…try to stay out of Dean and Kaitlyn’s way…”

“Nah, they love you.”

“Yeah, but I’m something of a fifth wheel, you know? It’s easier with you there. I’m not feeling like I’m the one keeping them from…you know…being…”

“I’m sure us being there isn’t keeping them from sex.” Sam said with a grin, leaping aside as she hit him.

“Ew…gross much? Not what I was talking about.”

“No?”

“He’s serious about her.”

“Yeah, marriage serious.”

They handed the ticket-taker their tickets and moved on. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Sam stopped her and pulled her aside. “You should know something about Dean and how is mind works by now Jen. You’re his sister, even if you aren’t his blood. That means nothing gets in the way of making sure you are okay. Just like it’s always been with me. Got it?”

She nodded and he smiled. “Good. Now, let’s get inside before all the good seats are taken.”

 

 

Sam dropped Jenny off at a friend’s and made for the church, pulling up in time to see Kaitlyn and her uncle walk off into the gardens together. His father’s truck was no where to be seen, but he could _feel_ him nearby. As he reached the doors, John Winchester stepped out of the shadows. “Sam.”

“Dad.” Sam opened the door and gestured inside. “Kaitlyn’s here. I don’t want her to see you. She’ll tell Dean…he’ll have a fit.”

“I don’t like this hiding.” John said as he stepped into the cool interior of the church.

“You never minded it before.” Sam said coolly, then held up his hand to forestall the argument. They may be working together, but it didn’t mean they got along. “Dean isn’t ready. I told you that when you called.”

“Sam, is that you?” Sam pulled the door shut and stepped into the sanctuary. Father Andrews stepped out of the confessional and came toward them.

“Father Andrews, my father, John Winchester.”

The priest looked a little surprised, but stuck out his hand, which John shook. “I expected you to be bigger, from the stories I’ve heard.”

John smiled. “You’re Marshall Andrews’ brother, right?”

“You know Marshall?”

“In passing. Know _of_ Marshall is more like.”

The priest nodded. “In your line of work it’s a wonder anybody really knows anybody.”

“I appreciate you looking after my boys.”

He chuckled. “Don’t know as I’d call it that, not with these two. I listen, I offer some wisdom. Same as I do for any of my flock.”

“What can you tell me about Dean?”

“Dad—“

“No, it’s okay. Not much, I’m afraid…you know…confidentiality and all.”

“I want to help my boy.”

The priest smiled. “So Sam said. I just don’t know that now is the right time for that….or if there ever will be a right time again.” Father Andrews shook his head and sank onto one of the pews. “Dean made a choice, Mr. Winchester. He made a bargain.”

A chill ran through Sam and he looked up. There was a silvery shimmer to the priest’s eyes that wasn’t there before and a feeling in his gut not unlike what he felt when he saw that demon in San Francisco. The priest looked at him and smiled.

“Not all things are as they seem, Sam. There are forces of darkness and forces of light. Is it so hard to believe, with everything you’ve seen?”

John took a step back and Sam did as well, though he wasn’t afraid. “You…who are you?”

The gentle face smiled. “I am…you would call me an angel, I suppose.”

“What bargain?” John asked, his hand rising up to Sam’s shoulder.

“Two years ago, John, your son made a bargain with a demon to save the lives of the people he loved. He agreed to walk away from his gifts, to never use them, in order to save Jenny and Sam and yourself.”

“He what?” Sam asked.

“Time was reset, false memories created.”

“That’s why he hasn’t had the dreams, or visions.” Sam said softly. “It isn’t the meds at all.”

“My time here is limited. Father Andrews’ body is not up to this like it used to be. My visits grow shorter each time. In killing Janet Caplin, the demon weakened his end of the bargain…and Dean’s agreement didn’t specifically include her, but her life was implied in the bargain.”

“I don’t understand why it wants Dean to be powerless. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s a demon Sam…it’s ways of thinking are not yours or mine. Watch Jenny, protect your brother. But I assure you John, if you attempt to see Dean, you will all be in danger. The agreement, in this matter, is explicit.”

The priest shuddered, and the light in his eyes faded. “I’m sorry.” He yawned. “In my youth he could stay much longer. Explain more.”

“No, Father, don’t blame yourself.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Now you sound like me, Sam. I’m sorry. I need sleep now.”

“We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you for your time.” John said, a hand on his arm steering Sam. “So…now what?”

Sam shook his head. His mind was swimming with the information, with the entirety of the last month. “Hell if I know, Dad. Hell if I know.”


End file.
